"Ah, fuck." Pierro scrubs a hand down his face, but he's smiling. He throws a glance at the closed office door. "A good man wouldn't let you do this."
I sink onto my knees. "Lucky for me you're a big, rough boxer."
He grunts, and then blunt, callused fingers spear into my hair. Comb through the strands, and scratch my scalp like a cat. And I practically purr, sitting back on my heels and butting into his touch.
"Sweetheart." He's strained again. "Are you sure? Some girls don't like it."
I smooth my palms up his thighs and pluck at his waistband. "Only one way to find out."
He takes the hint, tugging his sweatpants down a few inches and drawing out his c**k. He fists the hard length in front of me, squeezing the base of the shaft, and I fight the urge to bounce on my heels like a lunat
